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Success always comes at great cost and sacrifice, even tears sometimes. I am not one of those typical 'army types' either by temperament or physique, on account of which, everyone I knew always made fun of my ambition to join the Army. As I pursued my dreams, the fun turned to scorn and even contempt…
Someday I would fulfil my dreams.
My efforts finally resulted in my nomination for basic training, and I stood at the portals of the Academy full of hope but also with deep feelings of trepidation. Coming from a humble background, I had overcome several obstacles to make it so far. Failure was a possibility too terrible to contemplate. As I stepped inside and reported to the sergeant on duty, I wondered what the future held in store.
I did not have to wonder long. Stripped down to my shorts, I stood in line with the other candidates as my head was shaved and all vestiges of my identity were swept away along with my fallen hair; " You may trod me in the very dirt" (Angelou 3). As the hours and days wore on, newer and newer indignities were heaped on me. I hailed from a humble background, but life was led with dignity and honour. This humiliation nevertheless could not dampen the quiet satisfaction of having qualified for the Academy. ...
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